


Hair

by Patchwork drabbles (PurplePatchwork)



Series: RusAme Drabbles [60]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 13:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10922838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePatchwork/pseuds/Patchwork%20drabbles
Summary: Amelia thinks a certain girl in her class has distracting hair.





	Hair

There was a girl in Amelia’s class who annoyed the heck out of her. She was seated rather at the front of the auditorium, all by herself, and Amelia was constantly forced to stare at the back of her head. And what a head it was.

She had light blond, almost silvery hair, reaching down to her hips. It was usually held together in a ponytail or other sort of knot at the start of class, but somehow by the end of it, she’d always managed to undo it and let down her hair, like some wannabe Rapunzel.

Amelia constantly found herself distracted whenever the girl started undoing the knot. She was very meticulous about it. Using both hands to carefully undo the rubber band, she held one hand on the item while the other gingerly unwrapped her platinum bangs, as if she was handling something extremely delicate. Then the band went around her wrist, and she used both hands to comb down her hair until it had sufficiently flattened to her likings. After that she eased back and continued making notes, only now with those silvery bangs resting over the seat behind her, taunting Amelia.

Amelia didn’t like it. Not only was it incredibly distracting, but how vain could you get?! Amelia herself only had shoulder-length curls, only just enough to make a sloppy ponytail at best. Which she never seemed to do nowadays, because what if the girl’s antics somehow infected her and she would start to undo her tails in the midst of class as well? It would be terrible. Amelia didn’t want to come across as conceited.

Blue eyes narrowed when they honed in on the very same girl, sitting right in the middle of the front row. Look—she was doing it again! And right as the teacher was staring at her! Had she no shame?

Amelia had a sudden realisation. What if…what if she had a crush on the teacher? What if, by constantly twirling her pretty little locks around a fine wrist, she hoped to seduce him? Amelia rolled her eyes, giving a little pitiful sigh. Poor girl. It was a pathetically desperate attempt at grabbing his attention. Which self-respecting teacher would fall for some silly girl constantly playing with her hair, those heavenly soft-looking shimmering threads of silver? Amelia imagined the girl running across a beach somewhere, hair dancing in the wind, a high girly laugh escaping her lips. She was rather faceless in her imagination, however, as Amelia really only got to see the back of her head. Which was a shame, really. Such a shame.

The next day, Amelia tried sitting a little closer. If she was going to let herself be distracted by the pretty-haired girl anyway, she might as well know what she looked and sounded like, the better to feed her own overly annoyed imagination. It wouldn’t do to feel pity for someone of whom she didn’t even know what they looked like.

She was playing with her hair again, but this time Amelia had a much better angle. Patiently putting down her pen, the blond waited for the process to be done. For the first time she got a glimpse of the other’s face, as she half turned back in an attempt to get a better grip on her locks. Amelia could make out a pair of long eyelashes, a pale high-boned cheek, a lightly coloured eyebrow. All right, maybe she had a reason to be at least a little conceited. Because maybe, she at least fit the pretty part. It still annoyed Amelia to death though.

The day after that, Amelia moved even closer. There wasn’t anybody else sitting here, since most deemed it too close to the front of the room. Amelia didn’t care; she was a woman on a mission. She was going to find out what the other looked like. This task would have been a lot easier if Amelia remembered to pay attention to the other when she herself came rushing in last-minute and had to hurry to find a seat, or if her target stayed long enough after class was over for Amelia to cast a glance upon her features. Instead, they constantly seemed to miss one another, despite them having the same class. Despite Amelia now sitting so close she could almost touch that angelic hair.

Amelia was almost mesmerized as she once more witnessed the now familiar process. Oh, it still annoyed her, of course it did. But now, sitting so close as she did, it somehow became unbearable. The need to reach out and touch, pinch a strand between thumb and index finger, drag her hand down and down the delicate mane. It came so sudden, so unexpected. Amelia clenched her hands to fists and pushed them into her lap, a light blush staining her cheeks. She had only meant to find out what the other looked like, not…not this.

Amelia waited with beating heart for class to be over that day. She didn’t catch anything the teacher said, simply staring down at her desk, wishing she had simply stayed in the back of the auditorium. She missed most of the daily process of undoing, until she suddenly got smacked in the face.

Amelia lurched back, barely keeping herself from letting out an inhuman screech. She didn’t, if only for the hand suddenly covering her lips. The girl had finally turned around, and was now staring at her with a burning intensity. She put a fine finger to her lips, eyes flicking over to the teacher. Both waited with breath held until someone asked a question and he redirected his attention. Only then did the girl remove her hand, and quickly placed it against her other in an apologetic gesture.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Her voice was merely a whisper, but Amelia could still clearly hear the heavily accented tones.

The blond blinked her blue eyes, for a moment stupefied. Then she let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head, feeling the blush return. “No—no problem. I don’t usually sit at the front, I just…wanted to see the board better.” As if her lenses had suddenly lost in strength. Amelia couldn’t help herself, blabbing out the next part. “You have beautiful hair though.”

The girl lit up in surprise, shyly touching a lock hanging by her ear. “You think? Thank you.” She then held out her hand. “I am Anya, by the way. You can always remember me as the girl who hit you in the face with her hair.”

Amelia let out a high-pitched giggle, quickly snapping her mouth shut when the teacher looked their way. She shot forward, grabbing the hand with uncontrolled strength—yet Anya didn’t flinch; on the contrary, her smile only grew.

“Amelia. And you can hit me as many times as you’d like.” She looked at the teacher again. “And uh…your crush is looking. Don’t worry—“ she quickly amended, watching Anya’s face contort in surprise. “—I won’t tell anyone.”

Anya barked out a single laugh, no longer caring about getting caught; class was almost over anyway. “Me, a crush on the teacher? You must be joking! Why would you get that idea?”

Amelia instantly felt herself flush. She felt rather embarrassed now, being so wrong about the other. “S-sorry, I didn’t…” She hackled to a stop when Anya leant in once again.

“No, I don’t like the teacher. I’m more into blondes with freckles.” And when she gave a playful little wink, Amelia felt about ready to pass out.

And even though that was barely the smoothest thing she had done in her life, Amelia always sat at the front of the class from then on. Not behind Anya, but right beside her, getting the best possible angle as she could possibly get.


End file.
